


Matched Set

by herworship429



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Chewie is everyone's dad, F/M, Gen, Poe Needs A Hug, Rey also needs a hug, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herworship429/pseuds/herworship429
Summary: “Force, but we’re a matched set of depressing,” he muttered under his breath. That made her smile, for some reason. Not the depressing part, but the ‘matched set’ part.Rey enlists Chewie for desperate measures to convince their fearless leader he needs to stop and rest. She doesn't count on the Wookie deciding she needs the same measures. Or Poe and Rey get locked in a room and have to hash some stuff out.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103





	Matched Set

The sun was beginning to rise on Ajan Kloss by the time the victory party started to let up. By then, overexcited pilots and fighters had finally begun to stumble off to find their quarters on the _Tantative_ , or someone else’s, to crash until the new reality finally set in.

For some, it already had.

Rey had retreated to the Falcon early into the night, unused to so many people crowding together, still raw from Exogol; she’d had to convince Finn to let her go without protest or insistence on more hugging, or worse, talking about what had happened. She was aware that he knew she’d died, and as to how he could have known, she thought she knew now what he’d been trying to tell her on Pasaana before they were swallowed into those caves. But as comforting as his presence could be, he treated her like she was made of glass; right then, when she already felt about to break, she didn’t think she could handle his excruciatingly-gentle questions and excuses for her behavior.

Nor would Finn understand in the least why a not-small part of her wanted to go find Poe and pick a fight, because he certainly didn’t let her hide behind excuses, and had never once treated her like she needed anyone’s protection.

But for all that it might have made her feel better, that was the last thing Poe needed right then. They’d talked, not long after Crait, about what Kylo Ren had done to him, and what Snoke had done to her, and though she’d never said it, she’d made a point to try and keep out of everyone else’s thoughts and feelings, but especially his. She’d even shown him some meditation techniques she’d learned from Leia and the Jedi texts, ways of building up a mental wall against other Force-users, hoping it might at least help him feel a little better prepared against an attack like that should it ever come again. But that moment when his hand had covered hers at Finn’s back, when she’d finally been invited if only for a moment to share in his relief, underneath it all, she had recoiled at what else she found.

If he hadn’t been so hell-bent on keeping everyone else out, on keeping _her_ out, maybe she’d have felt the current of stress, and exhaustion, and guilt, and overwhelming hopelessness that he wore like a shock-collar. Then again, she had been distracted too. Too distracted to heal his blaster would; too distracted to notice that she hadn’t seen him without dark circles under his eyes for _months_ ; too distracted to care about how agitated he was, nor to wonder whether he had always been like this. For that instant, he’d let his walls down, and it _hurt_ , the full weight of what he had been trying to shoulder alone. For all that he had given Finn half of his command, he was still the one who bore the brunt of the blame and the responsibility for the Resistance. And she knew that, when BB-8 had come and found her bleating concern for his master, when she didn’t find him in the mess the next morning, or in his quarters resting, she would find him in their makeshift command tent. Because Finn was a natural leader in the heat of battle, and had a good strategic mind, but it was tampered, like Rey’s own, by youth and inexperience in a way that Poe, though not all that much older, really, had long ago outgrown. And the moment she got close enough to the command tent, something clicked that she and Finn should have put together the night before.

This wasn’t over. Of course it wasn't. It was a naive thing, to believe it could be so easy. The Sith Fleet was destroyed, and the First Order was leaderless now, but it was still out there, fragments of explosives scattered throughout the wounded galaxy, the writhing body of the serpent who had lost its head, but not yet its will to strike out. She realized all at once that she shouldn’t have been surprised to find him here, hunched over one of the consoles. He’d stripped the pilots’ jumpsuit he still wore from the battle the day before to the waist, using the arms like a belt tied around his waist, in deference to the heat, probably; that only meant she could see the bandage on his arm just below the sleeve of his shirt, stained to enough of a degree that it was clear it was still bleeding, his arm still hanging in a makeshift sling. His eyes were red, the shadows of exhaustion still hanging on, and it didn’t look like he’d slept at all. The look D’Acy gave her as she approached them confirmed her suspicions. Larma glanced at Rose, who gave a tiny nod, pushing herself to her feet. She said something to Poe, who only nodded absently, and then headed for Rey.

Her voice was low when she reached Rey.

“We’re getting reports of First Order retaliation. Remnants, we think, and I doubt it’s anything we can’t handle, but…” she sighed heavily and glanced back at the command area, “I know he’s the defacto leader now, and I know we probably need his input at the very least, but he needs to rest, and get that arm looked at properly. But mostly rest.”

“He didn’t sleep at all, did he?” Rey felt she had to ask, even though she already knew the answer. Rose shook her head.

“I’m going to get Finn, assuming he didn’t get completely blasted last night. Maybe if there’s someone else wearing the title of General around, he’ll be more inclined to let that someone else handle this for the moment. In the meantime… can you try and talk him down? I think he’ll listen to you.”

“I’m not sure why you think that,” Rey almost snorted, “He never listens to me.”

Rose looked at her for a moment, her head cocked to one side, a half-amused, half-curious look on her face, but then she smiled faintly and shook her head, “You’re as stubborn as he is. Well, do me a personal favor and give it a try? You might be surprised. Come on, BB-8, help me find Finn, will you?”

The droid chirped and chattered, but at Rey's encouraging nod, he followed Rose without much further complaint.

Rey turned back towards the problem at hand. How best to approach this? She suspected that Rose and the others had already tried logic and reason, and also probably cajoling and gentle suggestions. BB-8 would have tried an emotional appeal, and if the little astromech he loved so dearly hadn't managed to break through to him, she certainly wasn't getting anywhere fast. That left one option, but she might need help with what she had in mind.

She cast out her senses in the hopes that Chewie hadn’t overindulged last night either. Wherever he’d gone, it hadn’t been the Falcon, though perhaps he knew enough to give her some space. _Ah, yes, there he is_. With Lando.

She gave D’Acy a look that she hoped communicated that she would be back shortly, and then took off towards the ship Lando had arrived on Ajan Kloss in. She found him sitting around a small fire with Chewie and a Twi’lek woman who looked close to Lando’s own age. She was still beautiful, the woman, her green headtails patterned with faded tattoos or markings of some kind. And her green eyes were still sharp; something in her expression as Rey approached them was measuring and curious, though she remained silent.

“Chewie? I need your help, if you have a moment?” she nodded respectfully towards Lando, who was smiling almost mischievously.

Chewie roared a question that Rey didn’t know how to answer in front of Lando and his friend. She didn’t want to undermine Poe’s leadership, though she supposed what she had in mind wasn’t going to be a quiet, respectful thing anyway.

“It’s…” she sighed in frustration, finally giving up, “Poe is being… well, _Poe_. He needs rest, but he won’t leave command. Finn’s on his way, but I was hoping you could-”

“Talk some sense into him?” Lando asked, his amused smile fading into actual concern.

“Actually, I was hoping for something a little more… physical. That involves locking him in the Falcon so he has no choice but to get some sleep. At which point I can take care of his arm,” she sounded a little sheepish, even to her own ears. Lando and the Twi’lek woman shared a look, and Rey knew the moment she and Chewie were out of earshot, they’d start laughing. But Chewie stood up and grunted an affirmative along with a string of noises that Rey knew conveyed his own concern. Something along the lines of ‘cubs these days…’, before he admonished Rey for not taking better care of herself while she was at it.

They weren’t even out of earshot when she heard Lando’s booming laugh.

* * *

There was a lot of commotion and complaining, and Poe’s ego definitely took a hit as the Resistance woke to the sight of their General being toted through the jungle by an angry Wookie. Rey had not planned either on Chewie deciding that she needed some more rest too and shoving them both into what had once been Han’s quarters, locking the door with a code that even Rey couldn’t override.

“Hey! Chewie, this is not what I had in mind!”

“Well, what _did_ you have in mind, exactly?” Poe muttered angrily, slamming his fist against the door, and then hissing in pain, because he had apparently forgotten about the fact that he still had an open and painful wound on the same arm.

“Look at yourself!” Rey snapped, turning away from the door, “You can’t lead us anywhere like this! You need to stop, and you need to rest. And apparently so do I.”

He ignored her, instead prying the casing off the lock and trying to pick at wires with one hand.

“Poe,” she knelt down next to him, trying to get him to look at her. He stared at the jumble of wires and electronics in his shaking hands instead. She sighed and lowered her voice to barely more than a whisper, “Poe, please, just… a few hours, that’s all. The world won’t end over just a few hours.”

“You don’t know that," he snapped, his voice raw, "Those few hours might make all the difference. Do you know how many people might die because we waited just a few hours?”

Rey made an exasperated noise and stood up abruptly, pacing the room, “Do you always have to be so damned difficult?!”

He rose to that, just as she knew he would, just as he always did; suddenly he’d closed the distance between them, “Yes, I guess I do have to be this difficult! I’m sorry if that’s an inconvenience to you, _Princess_ , I guess that’s just how I’m wired! This isn’t over, and we’re wasting time we don’t have to get out ahead of it, and to stop them putting any more innocent worlds at risk!”

He stepped back, breathing hard, and only then did he realize that her eyes had gone wide and she’d backed away, “Rey, I-”

“Don’t call me that,” she managed, her voice uneven, “Don’t-”

“I’m sorry,” he looked abashed, but also confused and concerned, “What’s wrong?”

She backed away until she felt the bulkhead on the other side of the room against her back. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to admit to anyone why the Emperor had wanted her there on Exogol, but especially not to him. She didn’t want him to think less of her, or be any more afraid of her than he already was. The thought of that was like a vise around her heart. She didn’t realize she was crying until suddenly she felt his hands cover hers.

“Rey, please, come on, what did I say?” he sounded terrified, “Princess? Was that it?”

She twitched away from him, and he let go, “Okay, okay, now I know. I won’t call you that again, I swear, I’ll… Sunshine? How’s Sunshine? Or just Rey. Hell, you pick your own nickname. Just please don’t-”

“He was my grandfather,” she choked out finally, silencing him, “Palpatine… that’s why he wanted me there. He wanted me to kill him so he could…”

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes, “He kept calling me 'Empress Palpatine', and all I could think was that no, no, that isn't my name, I'm not a princess, I'm just... just Rey... and I don’t know what exactly he thought would happen, but it sounded like he wanted to… possess me? I don’t know. I don’t know if it would have worked like he thought it would. I don’t know anything except that he murdered my parents because they hid me from him, and he was my grandfather. The only family I had.”

He sank to the floor in front of her, speechless for once.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re scared of me, and I’m sorry I got us stuck in here, I was just trying to help, and-” before she could say another word, she found herself suddenly wrapped up in strong arms.

“Stop it,” his voice was rough, and she realized that he was crying too, “You’re… you’re right, about all of it, and it’s not your fault, and you are not the one who needs to apologize, especially when I’m the one being difficult.”

She tried to pull away, just enough to look him in the eye, “You heard me? About Palpatine? My grandfather? Right?”

“Yes,” she felt his arm tighten a little around her waist, but it wasn’t possessive or violent, it was… protective. She realized all at once that she now knew the difference, “And I gotta tell you, Rey, it kills me that you thought I was scared of _you_ , or that I’d care who your grandfather was.”

Rey let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob and then curled against him, letting him cradle her on his good side. With her own anger and sadness fading into comfort and calm, she reached out and traced her fingers against his bandaged arm. He winced and jerked a little, but didn’t move otherwise except to breathe out slowly, like he’d been holding onto it since Pasaana. He carefully tugged the bandage off and found nothing but a faint, mottled scar.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do that a long time ago,” she whispered, “And don’t try to tell me I shouldn’t apologize for that one.”

“Thank you,” he shifted them so he was bracing himself against the bed, but didn’t let go of her, “Somebody got Finn, at least, right?”

“Rose went to find him.”

“Good,” Poe sighed, “I hope he isn’t too hungover.”

“Even if he is, I think he’ll understand.”

“Well, while you’ve got me here, is there anything else you’d like to tell me about what happened on Exogol? I’d regale you with the heroic tale of how I rushed us headlong into a battle we weren’t prepared for and got a bunch more good people killed, but I think you could see that even from the surface,” he sighed heavily. She matched it, curling her fingers into the front of his shirt, like she was afraid he was going to let her go.

“Let’s see… I died,” she admitted quietly. She felt him jerk behind her as he twisted his head to look at her.

“Okay… I’m glad to see it didn’t stick,” he ventured cautiously, “I have a feeling I’m not going to like the answer to this question, but I’ll ask… why exactly didn’t it stick?”

“Ben saved me.”

“Ben… Ben Solo, you mean? Kylo Ren?”

“He wasn’t Kylo anymore. He… when Leia died, he came back to the light. He healed me, brought me back, but it… maybe he was dying anyway, I don’t know. I kissed him. And then he died.”

She listened to herself say this with almost no emotion. Poe didn’t miss it either.

“And… are you okay, Rey? Usually when you kiss someone it’s… it matters.”

“It should have,” her voice sounded hollow now to her own ears, “It did, when it was happening.”

“But now?” there was no judgement in his tone, only a gentle question, though she didn’t miss that his whole posture had stiffened a little at the mention of Ben’s name.

“Now…” she forced herself to consider her feelings.

Now, in the light of day, away from Exogol, their bond broken for a full cycle… She was grateful to him. She was glad to still be alive. She was sad that he’d died, but she realized it was mostly because she had wanted to save him for _Leia_. Suddenly, forced to examine her own emotions free from the bond, she realized just how much of it hadn’t been her own. Ben had loved her, or at least he’d thought he had. And somehow, that pull had gotten twisted up in her own confused feelings about him…

“I’m glad he came back to the light. I’m glad Leia saved him. I’m grateful for what he did to help us, and that he saved me, and I’m sad he’s gone. But…” she pulled away and leaned forward, pulling up her knees to her chest, “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay if you don’t know,” she glanced back at Poe, who was staring at the ceiling, his head leaning back against the bed, “Believe me, I get that. I saw Zorii again, and for a while, I thought maybe… but no. She was right. It was a long time ago, and I miss _mattering_ to someone like that, but I don’t miss what we had. I don’t think she does either. Too much bad blood… too many bad memories.”

They sat there in silence for what felt like a very long time before she heard him say, very quietly, “I’m tired, Rey.”

She nodded, “So am I.”

“All I can see is that interrogation room.”

“All I can see is that throne room.”

“Force, but we’re a matched set of depressing,” he muttered under his breath. That made her smile, for some reason. Not the depressing part, but the ‘matched set’ part.

“Come on,” she stood up, and offered her hand, “Maybe we’ll cancel each other out and we can both get some sleep.”

He burst out laughing as she helped him to his feet, and it was a sound she hadn’t heard in what felt like _years_. It was a nice sound, all things considered. She hoped she'd hear it more often now.

* * *

A few hours later, Chewie felt it safe to open the door, Finn waiting near him anxiously.

“I hope they didn’t kill each other,” the human boy sounded genuinely worried, "I mean, I know they wouldn't, but... still."

Chewie made a derisive noise, preparing himself to have to catch an escaping human who had merely been pretending at sleep.

He needn’t have bothered.

A cushion and a blanket on the floor near the bed made it apparent that someone (Dameron, Chewie hoped) had tried to play white knight, but they’d both wound up in the bed anyway, both fast asleep, at long last. The pilot’s back was pressed against the wall, the little Jedi curled up with her back against his chest, and though Finn was making gaping motions and alarmed, perplexed noises with his fleshy mouth, Chewbacca had spent far, far too long watching Han watch, and revere, and annoy, and argue with, and _love_ Leia, and she all the same back to him, to be surprised by any of this.

He suspected it hadn’t quite occurred to them yet.

But it would.

It would hit them like a rampaging Bluurg one day soon, and Chewie just hoped he’d be there to watch.

**Author's Note:**

> Despite my... conflicted opinions on Rise of Skywalker, I'm attempting to be as canon-compliant as possible. That being said, this assumes that the entire rest of the First Order fleet did not also just magically explode when the Sith Fleet on Exogol was destroyed, and therefore there is still work to be done and people to protect. Also, I'm intrigued by the idea that Kylo Ren might have been (probably unconsciously) using the bond between them to push some of his own emotions on Rey, as her sudden displays of uncontrollable anger seem to come out of nowhere whenever he opens the bond with her, and as she seems fairly stoic about him dying and all at the end. But maybe that was just me.  
> Also I kind of love the idea of Lando and Chewie and Hera just hanging out after the big battle telling stories and observing the kids fondly. And because I wanted her to be there so badly.  
> Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
